Mein Bruder
by Phantom-Moocat
Summary: The notorious villains Hans and Simon Gruber meet up in the afterlife, having been murdered by John McClane. Being stuck together now, these brothers must sort out their feelings for one another in order to find peace.


There was complete blackness all around him. Simon Gruber's mind snapped to attention, realizing the darkness surrounding him. He began to question himself and his surroundings, trying to figure out how from a helicopter, shooting at McClane, he got here. The questions the young German remained questions, their answers seeming to float around only in the dark, just out of reach from where he stood.  
After what could have been either a split second in time, or an eternity, a door with a shallow light emitting from it appeared ahead of him. Simon blinked several times, even though the light was hardly enough to see the faint outline of the door, the change from the ever-present, suffocating night hurt his pale blue eyes. He felt compelled to go to the door and see what was on the other side, although it was not himself who felt that. It was as if he was a marionette with his own thinking ability, but the puppeteer did not care. He didn't like this feeling.  
Not. One. Bit.  
He was used to being in control, having power over others. He loved the intoxicating feeling of controlling someone's thoughts, someone's actions, especially when it had been McClane. Simon recalled his game with McClane, which seemed so long ago, and smirked, knowing how much trouble he put that dumb Irish flatfoot through. His smirked turned into a scowl as he remembered the cop got the upper hand in his last memory of the world outside the abyss he was in.  
_"Say hello to your brother for me."_  
The urge to go open the door was too much for Simon, who was now standing near the door. His short blond hair seemed to glow from the brightness trickling out of the top of the doorway. He put his hand on the doorknob and grit his teeth.  
"Here goes nothing," he thought as he slowly turned the knob and opened the door.  
**-------**

The light flooded into his eyes and he shut them out of impulse. He opened his eyes slowly, letting his pupils dilate to the new atmosphere.  
Simon furrowed his brow as he realized he was in a finely furnished room. The walls were papered with a deep crimson and gold pattern. A dark marble fireplace was the main source of the light, and also warmth that swept over him. A bed was off to the side, with a canopy of dark red silk draped over the top structure. There was a couch, next to it a mahogany table, with a glass flask, presumably with scotch being its contents, and two glasses next to it. And then he realized he was not alone in the room. A dark head of hair poked up from the embroidered chair facing the fireplace.  
"Mein Gott," Simon breathlessly muttered, slipping into his native German tongue.  
The figure in the chair shifted, before standing up and turning to face the new occupant of the room. His chestnut brown hair was combed nicely into two parts, the hair brushed back near his temples revealed streaks of silver. His sideburns connected to his dark facial hair, which made a sort of box-like shape around his mouth. He wore a designer suit, complete with a red tie, whom's colour seemed to match perfectly with the room's decor.  
Simon had already known who this person was as soon as he had seen the finely combed-back hair. With seeing the man again he involuntarily clenched his teeth.  
"Ah, nice to see you, Bruder," the man spoke in a velvet tone and apparent German accent.  
"Hans..." Simon said, practically growling the name.  
Hans smiled at his brother, whom he had not seen in years.  
"Glad you remember my name, Simon. It has been a while, hasn't it?" the deep voice said in an emotionless tone.  
Simon ignored the question and posed another as he glanced around the room again.  
"Where are we?"  
The other man shrugged and scratched his nose that was the most prominent and distinct feature on his face.  
"Well, as fun as it's been seeing you again, Bruder, I must be off. Gold to steal, countries to buy, you understand," Simon smirked, turned to the door and tried the doorknob. It would not budge.  
"I'm afraid, once you're in this place, you're in." The dark-haired German chuckled and sat down on the couch, slouching slightly.  
Simon frowned, pounded on the door for a time before he grew helpless and gave up the futile attempt. He turned back to his brother who seemed awfully content with his sealed fate.  
"Is this some sort of trick?" he questioned his brother who glanced over lazily.  
"I don't know. But you might as well get comfortable. I've been here for a while..." Hans trailed off, his brow furrowed as he thought, "actually...I don't know how long I've been here. It's rather hard to tell time in such a place." Simon's brother shrugged again, reached over to the class container with the dark-coloured liquid in it and poured some into a glass before taking a sip.  
The blond German looked down at himself a moment, he noticed he looked much shabbier looking than his brother, who was dressed in a fine suit. Simon was wearing a faded azure tank top and shabby black pants. He knew he looked good in them, but he rather wished to look a bit nicer if he was going to spend eternity with his brother. He looked up at Hans, who was sipping from the glass, holding it up to the light of the fire and gazing at the shining dark liquid inside. Simon sighed and sat down on the couch on the couch with a plop, resting one of his legs on a mahogany coffee table that held a centerpiece of red roses. He smirked at the sight of the roses and turned to his brother.  
"For me? Oh, Bruder, you shouldn't have," he said in a playful, sarcastic tone. Hans drank the rest of the alcohol from his glass in one large gulp.  
"Don't look at me, they were there when I got here," Hans responded, examining the empty glass before pouring himself another.  
Simon sat back resting his head against his arms which were placed behind him and closed his eyes. He listened to the gentle crackle of the embers in the fireplace. An image of a blazing fire and the sound of helicopter propellers hitting metal wires flooded his mind.  
_"Say hello to your brother for me."_  
The blond German's clouded eyes jerked open as he sat upright, panting slightly, before resting his head in his hands.  
"Bad dream, Simon?" Hans bent over a bit to look at his brother who had sweat glistening on the nape of his neck.  
Simon nodded slightly.  
"What...Was your last memory before being in here?" Hans' brother sat up and looked at him, questioningly. The brown-haired German leaned back and seemed to search his mind.  
"I...Remember falling out of a window...This cop named McClane had shot me in my shoulder..." Hans stopped and glanced at his shoulder where he remembered the pain of the bullet slicing through his skin, and touched the area gently with his hand. He cocked his head at the fact there was no hole in his suit or undershirt, and even more surprisingly, no wound whatsoever. He felt no pain in the area, and he could not feel a wound or an indent of skin indicating a bullet had ever hit him.  
Simon's eyes widened at Hans' words. His memory came back to him, he was picking on McClane and toying with him for revenge of his brother's...Death.  
"Mein gott... We're dead," Simon breathed out, in a voice no more than a whisper.  
Hans looked up at his brother and tilted his head.  
"Are... You sure?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes.  
Simon nodded, "what else would explain this? The last memories I have were fighting McClane..." he trailed off and smirked, "I stole all of the gold from the federal bank in New York... I was trying to kill him, not only for ruining my heist, but...Partly for killing you..." the blond German went silent and looked down, trying to wrap his mind around being no longer among the living.  
Hans sat back and looked to the painted ceiling. "Well, that was kind of you, Bruder...To take revenge for me," he smiled softly; rather happy with the fact his brother cared about his apparent death. The truth of the matter was, they never really got along and Hans knew it. But now he also knew the bond of blood was enough for Simon to risk his neck and lose his mortal life just in seeking revenge on the man who had killed his brother.  
Simon sneered, "Well, if I hadn't gotten McClane involved, I probably still would be alive.... And rich."  
"Still," his brother replied, "it was a thoughtful gesture."  
The blond thief nodded curtly and glanced at the glass container with the alcohol in it.  
"Pass me a drink will you, Bruder?" Simon leaned back into the sofa, his muscles still tense from the realization he was not alive, and more so the fact that an alcoholic cop was his demise.  
Hans poured a glass for his brother and gave it to him. Simon took a sip and relaxed slightly.  
"Why are you so...Agreeable, all of a sudden, Hans? You were always an asshole when we were alive," he took another sip of the beverage and enjoyed the warmth it brought in his chest.  
Hans smoothed out his tie, watching the silk gently catch the light from the fireplace. "I figure...There's no reason to fight with you. After all, I know there is no way to leave this room. I might as well try to enjoy the company I have," he shrugged and tilted his head a bit, "better you than anyone else. At least I know you're a conniving, vindictive and arrogant person. So I won't be surprised by any of your actions."  
"...Thanks, Bruder," Simon said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes and gulped down the rest of his drink.  
The brunet thief smirked, "I'm only kidding. Can't you take a joke, Bruder?" he flashes his white smile at Simon who smiled back and looked down at his empty glass.  
"I think this stuff is kicking in," Hans' brother muttered to himself as he began to feel the room turn.  
"It's pretty strong," he acknowledged and brought the container over and filled Simon's glass again.  
"Danke," the blond smiled and put the glass to his lips, taking a sip. Hans cocked his head, slightly.  
"Have you been working out? You weren't so...Muscular, the last time we met," he furrowed his brow and thought of his own weaker frame.  
"Jealous, eh?" Simon smirked and puffed out his chest a bit. Hans rolled his eyes at the attempt to look stronger.  
"You may have the brawn, Bruder. But I've always had the brains," he scoffed, gave the blond German a victory smirk and then poured himself some more scotch.  
Simon shrugged, "if you say so..."  
The brothers sipped their drinks in silence, enjoying the warmth the fireplace brought to their skin, and the warmth the liquour filled them with.  
**-------**

After a long silence with their glasses virtually empty for what had to be a third time, Simon began to laugh.  
"At least we could've gotten a television or something... Or a radio..." he giggled, clearly intoxicated.  
Hans shook his head and smirked.  
"Clearly, my dear Bruder, you are not as adept at holding your alcohol as I am..." He pat his brother on the shoulder and motioned to take his glass away. Seeing this, the blond German quickly pulled the glass away from his reach, spilling the rest of the contents on his already dirty shirt.  
"No, if I have to spend all of this time with you... I can't possibly be sober!" Simon chuckled and stretched out on the couch, his legs facing his brother, one bent and the other hanging off the side of the couch. Hans peered over the knee that was now practically in his face and sighed.  
"Bruder, your shirt. You spilled your drink all over it."  
The blond German peered down at his shirt, noticing the large brown stain the alcohol had left.  
"Scheiße!" he groaned, sat up and pulled his shirt taught to examine the mess and muttered,  
"Of all the things... Now I'm stuck with a filthy shirt."  
He proved he was fluent in both German and English after that statement, as he proceeded to say every curse known to man in both languages.  
"And a filthy mouth," Hans cocked his eyebrow at his brother who was rubbing the stain furiously with another part of the shirt, which only seemed to spread the large dark stain down the fabric.  
"Forget it!" Simon yelled, threw his hands up in utter defeat and in one fluid motion, took the shirt off and cast it onto the chair a couple feet away.  
"That's your solution?" Hans said unimpressed, and looked at his brother's build.  
Hans admitted to himself, his brother's body was much nicer than his own. Lean and strong, the firelight seemed to dance across the outlines of his muscles. Hans, himself, was lean, but certainly not fit to Simon's status. What he lacked in muscle he made up for with his intelligence, classical education, and, of course, a gun.  
"Yeah. Pretty much," the blond gazed down at his bare chest and then looked at his brother, "but now I feel really dressed-down compared to you," he laughed, got up and poured himself another drink.  
"Here, I'll make you feel more comfortable, Bruder," Hans smirked as he loosened his tie and placed it neatly on the side of the sofa.  
"Danke! I feel so much better, now!" Simon said sarcastically, laughed and took a swig of scotch and sat down close to his brother who proceeded to down an almost completely filled glass in record time.  
The blond German rested his head against his brother's shoulder, giggling almost like a child. He then picked his head up, looked at Hans and frowned.  
"No, no. This won't do at all!" Simon muttered and began to take Hans' suit jacket off, with much protest coming from the wearer.  
"What are you doing?" Hans questioned, irritated, as he squirmed, trying to keep his jacket on. But Simon persisted.  
"You're still far too dressed up. Take off your jacket or I'll do it for you," the blond thief furrowed his brow in determination as he pulled on the very expensive jacket, not showing much prowess in his field of work.  
"I'll do it myself, Simon!" the brunet thief shouted and shoved his brother off of him, who rolled back on the couch, laughing. Hans let out a hard sigh as he took off his jacket and folded it over the couch next to his tie. Before he could glance over to see how his brother was doing, the blond German tackled him. Hans was pushed back by the sheer weight of his brother, not to mention the occurrence was completely unexpected. After a quick adjustment of the brunet German's arm, he realized his blond sibling was inches from his face, grinning at him. He cocked an eyebrow questioningly as if to ask, "what the hell was that for?"  
"Gotcha, Bruder," Simon chortled, his hands on his brother's shoulder, pinning him to the arm of the sofa.  
"You did, indeed," Hans replied, raising both his eyebrows, attempting to seem more impressed with his feat.  
There was a silence for a moment, as Hans looked at his younger brother. Simon's smile seemed to slip off his face, leaving an indistinguishable expression.  
The brunet German parted his lips to speak, but they met with his brother's before he had a chance.  
**-------**

Hans was struck with a rush of pure surprise, shock and confusion as his brother kissed him. Yet, as wrong as he knew it was, it felt...Right. He had a sense of belonging and of completeness he had never felt before, a feeling that having all the money in the world could have never given him, he realized. The fact that this was his brother, his own sibling, pulled him back into reality and he broke the kiss. Not sure whether to look at his brother with disgust or love, the brunet thief looked down from his counterpart's shining eyes. Simon saw the reaction his brother gave to the sudden affection and averted his gaze, ashamedly, and spoke in a voice that could barely be considered a whisper at best.  
"Ich liebe dich, Bruder..."  
The brunet German looked up to his brother's vacant stare, the glimmer of joy once held in his gaze fading deep into the grey-blue clouds that now resided in his eyes. He thought of the blissful feeling he had when his brother kissed him and how his brother had sacrificed his life just to avenge him. He contemplated the sin of what the blond thief had done, and the sin he commit alone for enjoying. Hans smiled at his ridiculous thought. He had killed many times before and, of course, stolen various amounts of money and other fine goods. Why should love be any sort of worry for his morality? He couldn't help but grin at his moronic thoughts about sin and morals. He was a killer and a thief, at least in the life outside of this bizarre afterlife. Now, he could be something he had never been before...A lover.  
Hans smirked at his brother who was still sulking, Simon's mind panicking over the mistake he had made, realizing how foolish it was to have shown such affection without warning. The blond German's mind screeched to a halt as his sibling's lips pressed against his own. Hans shifted, sitting up, his lips still locked onto his brother's. Simon could not help but smile as he kissed his older brother, wrapping his arms around his counterpart's shoulders. Partly because he could not believe that this was happening but mostly because his brother's facial hair tickled his face. They parted lips and grinned at each other content with being together, for as long a time as it may be in this strange realm of consciousness.  
"You're...Still are wearing too much, Hans," Simon said coyly as he smiled and began to unbutton his brother's crisp white shirt.  
The brunet leaned back, allowing Simon better access to the buttons down his shirt, enjoying the light touch of his brother's fingers against his chest and abdomen. As Simon unbuttoned the last button, Hans slid the shirt off of his sleeves, this time letting the article of clothing fall right off the couch into a crumpled heap.  
The brunet thief lived up to his title as he stole another kiss from his brother, pressing his bare chest gently against his companion's and wrapped his arms around his toned body. Simon's lips traveled from his brother's down to his neck, letting his hands slide down and learn Hans' slender frame. Hans closed his eyes, focusing only on his companion's warm and sensual touch. He could feel his brother's hands caress down his abdomen to a more sensitive location and begin to unzip his pants. Hans pushed his hand away gently and smirked at his surprised lover.  
"You first, Bruder," he said, teasingly, looking over the blond's body.  
Simon grinned and took his pants off, slowly, watching his brother bite his lip with impatience. Once they were off, the blond German took his counterpart's hand, and led him over to the bed and lied him down on it, pulling off his trousers as well. Simon leaned over his brother, kissed his lips softly and smiled.  
"Du bist perfekt," he whispered in his big brother's ear, putting his hand through his soft mocha-coloured hair.  
Simon lied down next to his dear brother and kissed him passionately, his strong arms holding Hans close. The brunet's hands did their own exploring, his fingertips gently tracing the blond's toned body. Before long, not an inch of their bodies was unknown to their newfound lover.  
Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss as they stroked each other sensually and lovingly. The brothers only broke apart their osculation was when they needed to take a breath from all of the excitement or just to enjoy his partner's touch. They pleasured their lover, basking in the bliss they brought one another, until both of their bodies were tired and aching from delight.  
"Mein Bruder..." Hans sighed as he kissed the blond German, holding the man tenderly in his arms.  
Simon smiled and ran his fingers through his brother's hair before burrowing his face into Hans' neck whilst the brunet German held on dearly to his sibling. The blond thief slipped into a slumber, lulled by the sound of his counterpart's beating heart. His companion soon followed, closing his eyes and relaxing his grip, but never letting go of his loving brother.  
**-------**

The sleeping brothers awoke suddenly by the sound of an unlocking door. Hans sat up in bed and looked at the door. The door, which held only pure blackness behind it, now had white light pouring through the cracks of the frame. The brunet thief cocked his head in puzzlement and quickly put his pants on. Simon sat up in bed lazily and yawned.  
"What is it, Hans?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stretched his other arm upward.  
"Look at the door," his brother responded, who was now fully dressed and tying his tie.  
Simon turned and looked at the door, which seemed to be emitting pure light from behind it. He began to put on his clothes slowly as Hans finished up his tie and made himself look neat.  
"I think the door can be opened, now. I don't know where it could lead, though," the brunet said as he examined the edges around the door.  
Simon walked over to his brother and took his hand.  
"It doesn't matter where it leads, Bruder. I have you," he smiled and kissed Hans lovingly.  
Hans nodded and opened the door. Light seemed to flood the entire room, everything besides the two holding hands disappeared into the white.  
Never letting go of each other's grasp, the two walked through the doorway. They knew that wherever this took them, they would always have the love of their brother.


End file.
